


Thank You

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Botany Teacher Dean, Field Trip, Fluff, M/M, Meddling Kids, Teacher Castiel, Teacher Dean Winchester, english teacher castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: In which the students of Benjamin Edlund High School are very invested in the relationship of their two favorite teachers.





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by @literaryoblivion.  
> Cross posted from [tumblr](https://lemonsorbae.tumblr.com/post/173465073794/thank-you-pairing-deancastiel-brief-mention-of). Reblogs are always appreciated! xoxo

“Hey, Mr. W. Seen Mr. Novak yet? His eyes really pop in that navy blue sweater vest he’s rocking.” Krissy’s smiling at him as she crosses the room to her desk, dropping her bag next to her chair and settling in.

Dean doesn’t look up from his lesson plan – he doesn’t have to, really; Krissy Chambers has been one of his students since she was a freshman, and he’s long since grown familiar with the sound of her voice. “It’s only first period, Chambers, why would I have seen him?”

“Oh, you know,” and when Dean finally does look up he’s met with Krissy’s smirk and flashing brown eyes. “Coffee in the teacher’s lounge, strolling through the parking lot together, hall sweep…” She finishes the word with a pronounced “p” sound.

Dean shakes his head as he approaches her, hand out and waiting expectantly. “You got your homework done last night?”

Krissy huffs but reaches for her backpack. “Of course.”

“Good.” When Krissy hands him her stack of papers, he scans the pages absently. “And why do you keep bringing up Mr. Novak?” When he looks down, Krissy’s smirking again.

“I don’t know,” she says, chewing on the cap of her pen. “Why do _you_?”

Feeling his face flush, Dean turns his back on her and returns to his desk. “Page 118, Chambers,” he says, because while he can appreciate Krissy’s banter on most days, he has no retort for her today.

:::

A new chat pops up on Castiel’s computer, and he glances at his students – studying for a quiz – before adjusting his glasses and reading the words on his screen.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
**I’m on lunch duty today.

Castiel chuckles under his breath, smiling at Dean’s use of an emoji. He’d mercilessly made fun of Castiel for using them, but slowly the amusement of them rubbed off on Dean and soon they were having conversations using nothing but emojis.

His fingers fall quietly against his keyboard in response.

 **CNovak said:** **  
**So I shouldn’t ask you to join me on the grass outside?

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** I don’t think you’ll be eating on the grass outside.

Castiel frowns at the screen, typing out a return message.

 **CNovak said:** **  
** Oh?

At that moment Kevin Tran approaches his desk, brow furrowed, and finger stuck between the pages of his book, marking a spot.

“Mr. Novak, are you going to be asking about definitions and everything?” He looks nervous – he always looks nervous – but Castiel offers him a gentle smile. Kevin has been at the top of his class three quarters in a row now. He’s applied himself very thoroughly.

“You’re going to do excellent, Kevin. Don’t stress yourself out over every minute detail.”

“But what if the detail I don’t stress about is the one you put on the quiz?”

“Kevin,” Castiel reaches across his desk, gently tugging the textbook out of Kevin’s hands. “If you study pages 9-12, you’ll find all the answers you need.”

Kevin blows out a sigh, nodding. “Okay, Mr. Novak. Thanks. And say hi to Mr. W for me.”

Castiel frowns, stomach bottoming out. “It’s not- I wasn’t-”

Kevin flashes him a smile. “Okay,” he says with a wink. Before Castiel can respond, Kevin rushes back to his desk, throwing open his book and devouring the pages.

Castiel blinks at the computer, blindsided by Kevin’s comment. How did he know Castiel was talking to Dean? And the wink, what was Castiel supposed to make of that?

The blinking messages on his screen, draw him from his thoughts.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
**How can you eat outside when you’ll be volunteering for lunch duty with me?

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Hey, Cas? You there?

 _I apologize_ , Castiel types, _I was answering a question_.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Look at you, doing your job.

 **CNovak said:** **  
** Yes well, at least one of us is.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Hardy har har

There’s a moment when the IM box goes still, but then an ellipsis appears, indicating Dean’s working on another message.

 **DWinchester:** **  
** So you gonna eat lunch with me, or what? Don’t make me go it alone, man, you know how brutal high schoolers can be.

A smile tugs at Castiel’s lips as he types out his answer.

 **CNovak said:** **  
**_He that is thy friend indeed,_ _  
_ _He will help thee in thy need…_

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Yeah okay, Shakespeare, see you in an hour.

 **CNovak said:  
**

**DWinchester said:** **  
** Dude, seriously?

Castiel chuckles as he clicks out of the screen just in time to start his quiz.

:::

“Hey, Clark Kent. I think it was my turn for coffee this morning so,” Dean places a mug in front of Castiel, watching the man’s eyes go soft and appreciative. His eyes that, Krissy’s right, really pop against his sweater vest, even from behind his glasses.

Castiel wraps a hand around the mug and brings it to his lips. “So, this isn’t a thank you for giving up my beautiful afternoon to spend it under florescent lighting with the pungent smell of teenagers and nacho cheese in the air?”

Dean laughs, setting his brown paper bag next to Cas’s and settling in across from him at the lunch table. “The privilege of staring at my adorable face for the next thirty minutes is your thank you.”

“Ah,” Castiel says, pushing a plush green grape past the seam of his lips and into his mouth. Dean watches for a beat, studying Cas’s mouth. He’s got a nice mouth, if Dean’s being honest with himself. “I think I’m beginning to understand your ways, Mr. Winchester.”

The distinct feeling of butterfly wings flapping against his stomach settles in. Most of the kids call him Mr. W, everyone else calls him Dean. But when Castiel calls him Mr. Winchester, well, there’s never been a time it didn’t make Dean smile.

“No one will ever understand my ways. That’s the trick, Novak.” Dean chugs back some of his water and catches Krissy Chambers staring at him and Cas from across the lunchroom. She gives Dean two thumbs up and grins at him, obvious and goofy. “My kids are acting weird today,” he mutters, eyes still on Krissy.

“One of mine was as well.” Cas’s blue eyes are thoughtful as he munches on a piece of celery. Maybe Dean should bring the guy a burger next time, or a really big steak. There’s no way all that rabbit food he eats can be filling. However, considering Dean grew most of the fruits and veggies Cas eats, maybe Dean’s the one to blame… But, it was for the education of the youth, okay? Dean has no regrets.

Dean stuffs a few potato chips in his mouth and considers telling Cas about Krissy. It only takes him a second to reach the conclusion that there’s nothing really to tell and says instead, “Muf be Monay.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand you with all the food you have shoved in your mouth.”

Dean sticks out his tongue and swallows the chips, following it up with another swig of his water. He opens his mouth, showing Cas it’s all down the hatch, then tries again. “I said ‘it must be Monday.’”

“Oh,” the corner of Castiel’s mouth tugs up into a smile. “Yes, it must be.”

Dean tears off a piece of his peanut butter and jelly and tosses it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “You still gonna help me out during 4th? They’re going to start planting their spring crops.”

Cas eats another grape, and another, and another before responding. And maybe the bastard’s doing it on purpose because he’s seen the way Dean reacts to it, or maybe he’s just that hungry. “Of course, I’ll be there. Alex specifically requested my help for this project.”

“You know that has nothing to do with your green thumb and everything to do with how hot you are, right?”

“I’m not hot,” Castiel counters, frowning.

“Trust me,” Dean grins. “You’re hot.”

Castiel quirks a brow at Dean. “Says Alex? Or says you.”

Instead of responding Dean finishes off his water, giving Cas an ominous shrug.

:::

Fourth period might be Castiel’s favorite part of the day, which is ironic considering it’s his free period and he usually spends it down in the greenhouse with Dean and his students. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy time spent with his own students, but there’s something about being (mostly) outside, surrounded by soil, and growth, and sunshine. And Dean.

He and Dean began working at Benjamin Edlund High School three years ago. They were both first year teachers – the only ones that year – and they bonded quickly over being the only two ‘noobs’ (Dean’s word, not his). It didn’t take long for Castiel to see how beautiful Dean was, inside and out, and he considers himself incredibly lucky to have a friend like Dean.

Down in the greenhouse students are just filing in for their last period of the day. Castiel greets Dean where he’s watering what look to be tomatoes with a bulky, green watering can.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Novak. You ready to get your hands dirty?”

Castiel smirks at Dean. “Of course.”

They’re both wrapped in deep green aprons, and the students are all chittering in different corners of the green house. Dean’s working with Krissy, throwing his head back to laugh every now and then, Kevin and Patience are taking notes of anything in their direct line of site, and Jack is pulling back the panel that allows the bees to flitter inside, smiling as they do so. Castiel stands at Alex’s side, going through plant facts with her as she pushes her seeds into the earth and covers them with wet soil.

“Hey, Mr. Novak?” She’s swiping her hair out of her face with the clean part of her hand and squinting up at Castiel curiously. “What’s your favorite flower?”

Castiel frowns for a beat. “Sunflowers, I suppose.”

Alex hums, nodding. “Adoration, loyalty, and- longevity?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you know Mr. W’s is orchids? He says they remind him of his mom.”

Castiel feels warm with the knowledge and isn’t the least bit surprised. For all his claim to machismo, Dean is actually quite sensitive and loving – not that that makes him any less of a man, but Castiel’s still working on that with Dean. The fact that something as soft as an orchid is his favorite flower seems incredibly fitting. “I didn’t know that.”

Alex smiles up at him, her blue eyes bright. “Now you do!”

“Now I do,” Castiel replies with a nod.

At the wash basin, Castiel stands hip to hip with Dean, watching him lather soap over his tanned hands. They’re strong and do so many admirable things, Castiel’s easily mesmerized by them.

“I didn’t know your favorite flower is an orchid,” Castiel mentions, rubbing soap over his own soil laden hands. Dean’s eyes are trained down, somewhere in the basin, and Castiel nudges him for his attention.

Dean looks up at him, smiles until the corners of his eyes are crinkling. It’s such a lovely smile. “Sorry, got lost for a second there.” And if Castiel didn’t know any better, he’d say Dean is blushing…

Castiel shakes his head, smiles back. “It’s alright. I was just saying I didn’t know your favorite flower is an orchid.”

“Who told?” Dean pulls his hands out of the water, dripping all over the ground beneath them, and Castiel does the same. But where Castiel reaches for a towel, Dean flicks his hands at Castiel who squints as the droplets of water land on his face.

“I can see why you chose to teach high schoolers,” Castiel comments, rubbing his towel over his face, then handing it to Dean when he reaches for it. “Because you act just like one.”

“They keep me young,” Dean says with a smile and a hand over his heart. “And you never answered my question. Who told you about the flower thing?”

Castiel grins at him, and he leans in close to Dean. “I’ll never tell,” he says, and then he leaves Dean blinking at his backside.

:::

When Castiel had lamented being short a chaperone for the Debate Team’s upcoming competition, Dean was all too happy to jump in and save the day. And that’s why he’s sitting at the back of a bus on a Friday evening, staring out the window and wondering if giving up his weekend was such a great idea. However, Cas had needed help, and Dean wasn’t just going to leave the guy high and dry.

“I need your attention.”

At the front of the bus, Cas is speaking into the loudspeaker and eyeing his clipboard. The authority in his voice draws everyone’s eyes to his, including Dean’s.

“Thank you,” Cas says, “I’m going to take roll, and then we’ll be on our way.”

He goes through the student’s names quickly, and when he’s finished, Jack shouts, “Hey, you forgot Mr. W!”

Castiel’s eyes find Dean’s over the heads of their students, and he quirks a smile as he says, “Mr. Winchester?”

“Yeah,” Dean croaks, “yeah, I’m here.”

Castiel brings the loudspeaker to his mouth to respond. “Yes, I know you are.” Somebody ‘woo’s’, a few others laugh, but Cas is still smiling at him.

High schoolers are so fucking weird sometimes. At least he’s got Cas by his side to deal with their increasing levels of immaturity.

When the bus is finally on the road and he and Cas are squished into a seat together, Dean allows himself to relax.

“Hey, you really took control up there,” Dean mutters when the lights are dimmed, and conversation is filling the bus in a subdued rise and fall.

Cas smiles broadly at Dean, a glimmer in his eye. “I feel comfortable in roles of authority.”

Dean chokes, his eyes glued to his knees, and a flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Are you alright?” Cas is reaching for Dean’s knee now, giving it a squeeze. It isn’t calming though because Cas’s grip is tight, strong, and he feels comfortable in positions of authority, and Dean’s positive he did not mean it like _that_ , but now Dean can’t stop thinking of it _that_ way.

“’M fine,” Dean grunts, “it was just, uh- y’know it was just dust or- yeah. Just- dust.”

When he finally looks up, Cas is frowning at him, eyes big and concerned. Dean offers him a smile. “I’m good,” he says, “I promise.”

Castiel nods. Dean waits for him to remove his hand from Dean’s knee, but he never does.

The first thing they do when they’ve checked into their hotel is walk the block and half to a Denny’s and find enough tables for them to claim. They order their food, then Cas clears his throat to ‘go over some items of business’ (Cas’s words, not his.)

“Registration begins at 7 am sharp tomorrow morning. Late entries will not be accepted so we need to be prompt. Please be ready by 6:45. Either Dean or I will-” Cas pauses, blinking at the students who are all grinning at him in amusement. He turns to Dean, leans in. “What did I do?” he mutters.

Dean can’t help but smile, too. “I think it’s ‘cause you called me Dean.”

Cas looks a little flustered now, and maybe self-conscious, too. But it’s not like he’s broken a rule. It’s more of a formality really. Students use prefixes like Mr. or Ms., Mrs. or Mx. out of respect. Calling a teacher by their first name indicates a more personal relationship. That’s all. And why wouldn’t he and Cas have a more personal relationship? They’re basically each other’s best friend.

Cas glances down at his paper, clearing his throat and not looking up. “Where was I?” His voice is quieter than before. So, Dean tugs the paper out of Cas’s hand and takes over.

“Alright, you balls of raging hormones and teenage angst, listen up. We leave at 6:45 on the dot. If you’re not ready, I’ll drag your butts out anyway and the only debating you’ll be doing is whether or not the bench is a suitable enough place to watch your friends from ‘cause that’s where you’ll be. Mr. Novak and I are here to make sure none of you run off with someone from another school and try to make debate babies. So, don’t do it. If anyone’s caught with alcohol or illegal substances, you’ll be suspended immediately, and we’ll have to call mommies and daddies to come pick their precious babies up. So, don’t do it. Uh-” Dean looks to Castiel. “Anything else?”

“Room assignments.”

“Oh yeah. Everyone’s got a room they’ll be assigned to. Due to school regulation, it’s a boys with boys, girls with girls situation.”

“Sounds like a reasonable regulation to me,” Jack comments, all smiles. At his side, Alfie’s blushing, grinning at his pancakes.

Dean points at Jack. “Jack, Alfie? No funny business, you hear me? And the rest of you, when you get your assignments that’s where you stay. This is your one warning. I hear anyone pitter pattering around after 9, I’m dueling out detention. And I’m a light sleeper. Capiche?”

“Wow, you’re scary Mr. W.” Alex’s smirking at him with her smug little face. The table erupts into a burst of giggles.

Dean sighs, handing the paper back to Cas and offering him a smile. “Teenagers, huh?”

Castiel nods, smiling back. “They’re the worst.”

Their hotel room has two double beds, separated by an ugly scant bedside table, with an even uglier lamp topping it all off. Having grown up in motel rooms, it’s not the worst Dean’s ever seen, but it definitely ain’t the Taj Mahal either.

“Which one you want?” Dean asks, eyeing the beds.

“You want me to pick?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, Cas. Whatever you want, you tell me.”

Castiel quirks a brow at Dean. “You really mean that?”

Okay, so it was a weird thing to say, but Dean thinks about it for a fleeting second and decides it’s true. There isn’t anything he’d deny Cas.

“Yup.”

When Castiel’s expression turns thoughtful, Dean realizes he may have made a huge mistake. “I want this bed.” He drops his suitcase at the bottom of the bed. “And I want you to call me ‘Commander’ for the rest of the evening.”

“What the fuck,” Dean sputters, eyes wide and cheeks absolutely flaming. “Why?”

“Because it’s closest to the bathroom.” Cas’s grin is all cheek, and Dean’s still internally flailing. Because Cas is comfortable in positions of authority, and he wants to be called _Commander_.

“I don’t care about the bed, I’m asking about the Commander thing.”

Castiel reaches a hand out and rests it on Dean’s shoulder. “Because I find it amusing to watch you squirm.” He squeezes Dean’s shoulder then fucks off to the bathroom with his suitcase, closing the door behind him.

“I do not squirm!” Dean calls after him, squirming in his spot.

Of course, Cas – the asshole – doesn’t respond.

You know you’re hanging out with a bunch of high schoolers when you’re ready for bed by 9pm on a Friday night. At home he’d be shooting the shit with Cas, and Sammy and Charlie, probably have a nice buzz going, too. Tonight, though, he’s just staring up at the ceiling, hands on his chest, while he listens to Castiel climb into the bed next to him.

“You tired?” Dean asks when Cas has settled.

Castiel hums before responding, “Not particularly. You?”

“Nope.”

The room falls silent again.

“You mind if I turn the T.V. on?” Dean turns his head to meet Cas’s gaze.

“Do I mind if you turn the T.V. on…”

Dean groans. “Seriously, dude?”

“Seriously, dude.” Cas quips a smile at Dean that makes his head spin a little, equal parts aroused and perplexed that it’s possible to be aroused because of his best friend, but he sighs in defeat.

“Fine. Do you mind if I turn the T.V. on, _Commander_ ?” And it’s like Cas has been beaten at his own game because his cheeks flare red, and he can’t hold Dean’s gaze afterwards. Dean smirks. “What’s wrong? Did I not say it right, _Commander_?”

“No, it was- it was fine,” Cas mutters to the nightstand.

Reaching for the remote, Dean flicks the T.V. on and flips through channels until he finds a _Doctor Sexy, MD_ re-run and pauses. Dr. Sexy and a man dressed in some kind of military uniform are in an elevator, sucking each other’s faces off.

“Oh, c _ommander_ ,” Dr. Sexy moans, and Dean can’t tear his eyes away as the commander’s hands reach around Dr. Sexy’s waist and land on the globes of his ass, squeezing until the doctor sighs jaggedly into the crook of the commander’s neck.

Dean sighs jaggedly with him.

“No.” Cas’s voice is sharp from across the room, and it’s what finally draws Dean’s gaze away from the scene unfolding before them.

Dean flashes Cas a smile he hopes passes for innocent then promptly changes the channel. When he keeps circulating through the few channels the hotel gets, Castiel climbs out of bed and grabs the remote from Dean, waving his hand in the air at the empty space in Dean’s bed. Dean scoots over. Begrudgingly.

“Your privileges have been revoked.” He sits at the head of Dean’s bed and goes through the channels a final time until stopping on Family Feud.

“Fine,” Dean props himself up on his pillows, studying the television for a beat before looking over at Cas again. “You want something to eat, _Commander_?”

Castiel turns dark eyes on Dean. “You can stop calling me that now.” If Dean didn’t know any better he’d say the guy’s voice is strained.

“I thought you said for the rest of the night.”

“Dean.”

“Whatever you want,” Dean says again, which is what got him in to the whole commander mess in the first place. “Do you want some food, _Cas_? I think I’m going to order some French toast from room service.”

“I’ve already brushed my teeth.”

“So have I,” Dean counters. “What you only have enough toothpaste for the remainder of our trip? ‘Cause you can use some of mine if that’s the case.”

“No.”

Dean offers Castiel a wide grin. “Okay. So, do you want something or not?”

“I want French toast, too.”

“Thought so.”

Dean calls an order in to room service, and that’s how he and Cas spend the rest of their night, screaming answers at the television around mouths full of French toast and bacon. And alright, maybe spending the weekend with a bunch of teenagers isn’t that bad afterall.

Turns out Dean never ends up having to drag anyone out of their rooms in the morning, and there are no debate babies or illegal substances to be heard of.

At the tournament Krissy and Jack lead their team to a second-place victory, and everyone, including Cas ( _especially_ Cas), goes home with satisfied smiles on their faces.

:::

As a precursor to the weekend, Thursday always feels like the longest day of the week, and fourth period especially seems to drag on, and on, and on. Because it’s AP English, Castiel gives the class the remaining thirty minutes to work on their group projects that are due at the end of the month and begins making stacks of papers that need grading.

Challenging the kids with four page assignments would be beneficial for them when they were all said and done, but when Castiel eyes the stack of thirty seven four-page assignments, he seriously wonders if it was his best idea.

When a new message on his IM let’s out a soft but distinct _ding_ , Castiel avoids the few students who look up at the sound with knowing smirks – Kevin and Jack, mostly – and turns his attention instead to the new message waiting for him.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Dude, what was I thinking giving them a huge test right before the weekend?

Castiel’s lips quirk up into a smile. _I know what you mean_ , he types back. _For some reason I thought it’d be a good idea to have them all write four page papers._ Castiel snaps a photo of his one inch stack of papers and uploads it into the chat.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
**Good thing I got a twelve pack to get us through, huh?

 **CNovak said:** **  
** I think I’m going to need pizza, too.

 **DWinchester said:** **  
** Pineapple and green pepper?

 **CNovak said:** **  
** You know me too well.

Castiel looks up from his computer screen to find Jack and Kevin looming over him, smiling.

“Hey, Mr. Novak. Can you ask Mr. W if he’s graded our tests yet?”

Jack nods. “We don’t want to have to wait the whole weekend to find out our scores.”

“Are you incapable of walking down to his classroom yourselves?”

“Well no,” Kevin answers. “We just thought it’d be faster if you asked him right now. Since you’re already talking to him.”

“I’m not-” Castiel’s face feels hot. Why are his students so invested in when he is and isn’t talking to Dean? Or if Castiel thinks Dean looks good in what he’s wearing on any particular day? Or if he and Dean have ever seen each other’s houses? And in addition to that, how do they always seem to know? “What makes you think I’m talking to Mr. Winchester?” Castiel finally chances, not knowing whether he actually wants the answer.

“Because you’ve got the ‘Mr. W Smile’ on,” Jack points out. His eyes are wide, sparkling with excitement, and Castiel frowns, cocking his head at the boy.

Squinting, Castiel wonders, “What do you mean the ‘Mr. W Smile’?”

“Oh, that’s just what we call the smile you get around Mr. W,” Kevin supplies. “You were doing it just a second ago.”

“So, can you ask him?” Jack wonders.

Castiel sighs. “He’ll be grading them this evening. You should know your grades by tomorrow.”

He’s met with wide grins that look a little too satisfied for his comfort.

“Hey, Castiel. You rushing off somewhere fun?” Principal Jody Mills’ smile is bright, as always, and Castiel quirks his lips at her as he holds up his bag.

“I have papers to grade.”

“Ah,” Principal Mills says with a nod. “Another beer and pizza night at Dean’s then?”

“I’m afraid so,” Castiel admits.

Jody chuckles, bumping her shoulder gently against Castiel’s. “Don’t have too much fun.”

“I assure you we will not.”

“Guess who’s the most adorable teacher at BEHS and got roped into chaperoning at prom in a coupla weeks?”

Castiel carefully chews his pizza, staring at Dean in silence.

“C’mon, Cas, you’re supposed to guess.”

“I thought you were being rhetorical,” Castiel answers, swallowing his bite and wiping at his mouth with the flimsy napkins the pizza boy included with their meal.

Dean cracks open his third beer, pulls another out for Castiel, too. “Well, I wasn’t.”

“Fine,” Castiel rolls his eyes, appeasing Dean. “Is it… you?”

Dean smiles wide, filling Castiel’s rib cage with a nice rolling warmth. “How’d you guess?”

“Process of elimination. Obviously my first thought was me, but then I wasn’t asked to chaperone. I know Marv was asked, but there’s nothing about him that strikes me as adorable. Principal Mills will be there, but she’s not a teacher, which left you and Garth. I decided to guess in alphabetical order, which ended up being you.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Yes,” Castiel smirks. “And I’m the only one in the room as well.”

Dean lets out a bark of fake laughter and balls up a napkin that he lobs at Castiel’s face. “How’re the papers coming?” He’s nearly through with his tests – they’re may be a lot of them, but there’s an answer key for them, too – but Castiel has only gotten through four or five of his papers.

“They’re all about the same thing,” Castiel frowns. “I’m bored.”

Dean’s expression is mournful, understanding. “Alright, how ‘bout this,” he pushes the beer closer to Castiel and nods at the papers. “You read through however many it takes to get you buzzed, and then when you’re clearly no longer in the right state of mind to be grading, we give up for the night and you teach me how to dance.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t look like an idiot at prom, doofus.”

Castiel cants his head to the side. “As a chaperone won’t you just stand around and glare at kids who look like they’re up to something? I didn’t think you’d be doing much dancing.”

“Most chaperones, yes. Me? No. The kids love me, Cas. They’re gonna be begging me to get out on that dance floor and show them my awesome moves.”

“If you say so.” There’s a smile tugging at Castiel’s lips. Dean has such an endearing presence, one that speaks of confidence and a strong passion for everything and everyone he loves, and when Dean smiles back, for a moment, it’s all Castiel sees.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it.” Dean claps his hands together, anticipatory, and Castiel shakes his head because what an endearing, cocky, beautiful man Dean Winchester is.

“Fine,” Castiel agrees. “But I’m not drinking alone.”

Castiel gets through six more papers before he’s well and truly buzzed (plus some). Dean drank his half of the twelve pack, and when that didn’t do it for him, he raided the liquor cabinet for whiskey.

With the words swimming on the page before Castiel, and a constant giggle in his throat he pushes his work away. “If I don’t stop now, everyone will be receiving A’s,” he declares.

“Great,” Dean says, brandishing a hand, “sounds like you’re all mine now.”

A light laugh passes Castiel’s lips as he accepts Dean’s hand and follows him into the living room. “I’m always all yours,” he mutters around a grin, eyes watching Dean’s feet as they move.

In the living room Dean puts a record on – despite Castiel’s protests that Led Zeppelin is not appropriate music when learning how to dance – then crowds Castiel up against the wall, his breath warm on Castiel’s face.

“Ok, Clark Kent,” Dean’s smile is loose, dopey, and when Castiel sways further into Dean’s presence he has the fleeting curiosity of what that grin would feel like pressed up against his mouth. “Where do you want me?”

With his hands on Dean’s hips, Castiel pushes them away from the wall and to the center of the room. “Here.” He stands waiting for Dean to touch him, but he never does, so Castiel reaches for Dean’s hands and places them around his neck. “Participation is key.”

“Why do I have to be the girl?” Dean wonders, pouting. (And yes, Castiel wonders how that one would feel against his lips, too.)

“Because _you_ didn’t take eight years of ballroom dancing. Leading is earned, Dean. So earn it.”

Dean huffs a sigh at Castiel. “Fine, Fred Astaire. Lead me.”

 _“_ Thank You _”_ fills the air and Castiel sways them in time to the music, gentle and uncomplicated.

“This is what eight years of ballroom taught you?” Dean’s smile is cheeky, and Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean.

In a quick and sharp movement Castiel switches them into a Closed Position with one hand settled low on Dean’s back and the other wrapped around Dean’s hand. When he drags Dean closer, he can see the other man’s eyes dilate as Dean licks his lips.

Castiel doesn’t speak as he begins spinning them around the room, laughing when Dean trips his way along, and ignoring the dizziness clouding his brain. He throws Dean out, only their hands connected, then tugs him into a spin that draws him close again, this time his back to Castiel’s front.

They sway like that for a moment or two and as the song is ending Castiel throws caution to the wind and bends to put his lips against Dean’s neck. “That’s what I learned in ballroom,” Castiel mutters.

“Fuck.” Dean breathes out the word and panic rises in Castiel’s chest. He’s under the influence of alcohol, he shouldn’t be allowing himself within fifteen feet of Dean Winchester right now. Who knows what Castiel could do or say? He’s about to apologize, _profusely_ , when Dean turns around; that easy, happy smile on his face.

“Dude, that was awesome,” Dean enthuses and with his words the worry eases out of Castiel. “No way am I going to remember any of it, but fuck. I’m impressed.”

Castiel’s lips twitch, fighting a smile. “It’s easy to be impressed when you’ve never danced before,” Castiel points out and at that a wicked smile grows on Dean’s face.

“Oh, I’ve danced before,” Dean counters. He pulls away from Castiel, moving to let the record fade out and replace it with his iPad, a bass-y up tempo song replacing _Thank You_. “First three months of my college experience I danced to put myself through.”

“And then?” Castiel quirks a brow.

“Then I decided I wanted to be a teacher and had to find a more ‘respectable’ job. But that don’t mean I’ve forgotten my roots.” Dean starts moving to the music, his body rolling and jerking in a way that has a blush creeping up Castiel’s chest and into his cheeks. When Dean’s hands start traveling over his body, up his thighs and across his belly, over his chest and towards his shoulder, Castiel nearly chokes.

“You were a stripper.” It isn’t a question.

Dean’s eyes are glossy and bright as he reaches for the topmost button on his flannel button down. “Call it what you want, Cas, but I was damn good at it.”

All coherent thought flees Castiel’s brain when Dean shrugs out of his over shirt and then toys with the hem of his t-shirt. Castiel’s hips though, they’re picking out the beat of the song, moving along.

Dean’s just tugging his t-shirt off and swinging it around over his head when Sam appears in the entrance to the living room. He looks mortified.

“What is this, Teachers Gone Wild?” He strides to Dean’s iPad, flicks it off. “Dean, why is your shirt off? Cas, why are you all-” Sam waves a hand at Castiel’s face.

“We’re grading papers, Sammy.”

Castiel laughs out loud, slapping a hand over his mouth with wide eyes. Sam frowns at him, shakes his head at Dean. “You guys know this isn’t normal, right?”

“Whatever, Sammmmmmmmy,” Dean drawls. “You’re just jealous you’re a stuffy old lawyer who never has any fun.”

“Yeah, that’s it, Dean.”

Ignoring his brother, Dean reaches for Castiel and drags him back into the kitchen. “Let’s go, Cas. We don’t need that moose killing our buzz.”

Castiel’s eyes rove over Dean’s bare chest, and he laughs. Dean is good looking. So _very_ good looking. “You have pudge,” Castiel points out, rounding on Dean and poking the soft bit of skin just below Dean’s belly button.

“It keeps me humble.” Dean shivers when Castiel touches him, grin broad.

Castiel’s gaze finds Dean’s and the room falls silent for a beat. “I’m very drunk,” Castiel states after a moment.

Dean laughs, shaking his head. “Looks like you’re bunking with me tonight, Clark. No way’re you fit to drive home.”

Castiel doesn’t protest, just follows Dean down the hall and into his bedroom.

In Dean’s room Castiel falls onto the bed in another fit of laughter. Pretty soon Dean is leaning over him, grinning.

“What’re you laughing about?”

“You,” Castiel admits, gulping for air. “You’re very cute.”

“Cute enough to cuddle?” Dean’s at the edge of the bed now, pulling his belt off and working at the fly on his jeans. There’s a high flush in his cheeks, and he looks so warm, and – come to think of it – yes, cuddly.

Castiel sits up, reaches for Dean’s arm. “Like a teddy bear.”

Dean falls next to him with an oomph, his jeans tangled around his feet where they hang off the bed. He kicks them off and Castiel makes the very educated observation that he’s wearing too many clothes. He hasn’t fallen asleep in jeans since his junior year of college and he has no intention to now.

“Is Sam going to be uncomfortable with me sleeping over?” His shirt joins Dean’s on the ground, and he’s attempting to wiggle out of his pants when Dean hooks an arm around Castiel’s waist and knocks him down again, dragging him up the bed.

“Sam’s just renting a room,” Dean huffs, “’s my house. I do what I want.”

When they’re both settled in the pillows Castiel has one foot still tangled in the mess that are his jeans, but he ignores it, pushing Dean onto his side and pulling him in by the hips. “Get me some pajamas,” Castiel demands, burrowing under Dean’s comforter and burying is face between Dean’s shoulder blades.

Dean’s body is already lax in his arms, pliant, and heavy. “Kay,” Dean mumbles back, and that’s the last thing Castiel remembers.  

:::

Dean wanders into his classroom with his eyes on his shoes, a half smile tugging at his lips. Waking up next to Cas this morning had not been awkward like he’d anticipated. Instead it felt… _normal_ . Even Sam hadn’t commented on it when Castiel had joined him for breakfast smelling of _Dean’s_ soap, clad in one of _Dean’s_ t-shirts, and a pair of _Dean’s_ jeans.

Sure, Cas has been over enough for him to be a comfortable fixture in Dean’s home, but up until now it’s been all work, and no, well, whatever last night was.

Problem is, Dean can’t stop smiling about it all; how warm Cas was, how incredible it’d felt to be wrapped up in his strong arms, and how cool it is to have a friend like Cas who’s not afraid of a little cuddle therapy here and there without things getting weird.

By the time Dean’s students file in, they know something’s up.

“You look chipper today, Mr. W.” Krissy takes her seat, flashing Dean a knowing smile.

“It’s Friday,” Dean offers. He straightens the tests he’d graded the night before, waiting for the rest of his class to arrive. When he looks up, however, most of them are already there and they’re all looking at him with differing intensities of seriousness. “What’s wrong?”

Everyone looks to Krissy. She rolls her eyes but speaks up when no one else does. “We saw you’ll be at prom next weekend.”

“Oh,” Dean cracks a smirk at his students. “Can’t wait to see how awesome I am on the dance floor?”

“Not even close, Mr. W.” This time it’s Jack, and he’s shaking his head.

“Fine, spit it out.”

Krissy takes a deep breath before enlightening Dean what the hell they’re all being so weird about. “We all have dates for prom, but you don’t. We think it’s only fair you take a date, too.”

“Mr. Novak,” Alfie chimes in. “We want you to take Mr. Novak.”

Dean’s stomach is nothing but one huge pretzel inside him, tightening with each second of silence that passes on. Cas? They want him to ask Cas to prom?

Now Kevin is intervening, too. They’re all traitors. Every single last one of them. “We know you’re in love with him, Mr. W. And we’re pretty sure he’s in love with you, too.”

At this Dean scowls. How the hell would they know? They don’t know Dean’s life. And okay, so maybe Cas had spent the night last night, and maybe they had curled up in Dean’s bed and cuddled. A lot. And maybe Castiel was currently wearing Dean’s jeans and t-shirt around the halls of Benjamin Edlund high school (thank god for Casual Fridays). But it had all been platonic, fun. It doesn’t mean he’s in love with the guy, right?

And that should be it, the answer to it all. But it’s not. Because if Dean thinks about it, really thinks about it, he can’t recall a time when being with anyone else had felt the way being with Cas feels.

They’ve had their ups and downs, but the prior far outweighs the later, and flipping through the photo album in his mind, Dean can think of so many good moments in his life. And 90% of them star Cas.

Cas _is_ a good moment in Dean’s life, hundreds of little good moments that add up to how great their relationship is now; squirming through their first staff meeting together, sitting next to each other in the summer carnival’s Kissing Booth to raise money for the school, late night talks about their worries of being inadequate and the quiet support they offered one another through it all. They’ve laughed and cried together. Dean knows Castiel’s coffee order, and Castiel brings Dean cookies for lunch that he ‘had left over from the weekend’ despite Dean suspecting Cas had made them just for Dean. And there at the center of it all is the fact that when Dean does allow himself to think about what he’d want out of a lifetime partner, Castiel checks every single box and then some.

Okay, so that must mean. “Oh my god,” Dean mutters. “I’m in love with Cas.”

The cheer that breaks out through his classroom is both startling and bolstering. How his students saw it before he did, he’ll never know, and he’s seriously considering giving every single one of them a month’s worth of detention for meddling. But dammit he’s in love with Cas, and that’s pretty much all that matters.

“Okay,” Dean says, feeling out of breath. “Tell me what to do.”

After lunch Dean’s walking Castiel to his classroom, his heart beating a nervous tattoo against his ribcage. It’d taken some quick thinking to get things ready in so little time, but Krissy, Alex, Jack, Kevin, Alfie, and Patience, and all the other students behind he and Cas’s apparently obvious love affair had been all too eager to help make it all happen.

Standing outside Castiel’s door, he quirks his head at Dean, frowning ( _adorable_ , Dean thinks. _A-fucking-dorable_.). “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine, just- glad it’s Friday, y’know?”

Castiel nods. “I do.”

“And I wanted to tell you, uh-” Cas is blinking at him, waiting, and strangely enough Dean knows the guy’d wait minutes if he had to just to hear what Dean had to say. “You look really good in that shirt.”

Cas’s lips curve into a smile. “Thank you,” he says, eyes glittering, “a friend loaned it to me after I commandeered his bed in a drunken stupor.”

“Thought you didn’t want to be called commander anymore.”

“Insufferable.”

Dean spares a quick glance at his watch. Cas can’t go into his room until exactly 1:30. Which is now.

“Well,” Dean scrubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Have a great day, Mr. Novak.”

“You, too.”

Castiel turns, opens his door, and stops. His room is bursting with color, cheery yellow sunflowers filling his window sills, filing cabinets, and the students’ desks. There are students lining the walls, all holding their own bouquet of sunflowers, and their smiles are nearly as bright as the flowers. Dean follows quietly behind Castiel as he wanders into his room, looking around in awe. Finally, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from his room, he looks back at Dean, glancing down at the three sunflowers Dean holds, before gawking at him.

“Did you do all this?” Cas’s voice is breathless, his cheeks glowing, and Dean smiles broadly at him.

“I had a little help from my friends.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I,” Dean admits, clutching tightly at the flowers in his grasp. “Or maybe I did, but I never acknowledged it.”

Cas is frowning now, his brows pulled down into one deep line of confusion. “Acknowledge what?”

“That I’m in love with you,” Dean offers bluntly. “That I-” he stops to peer at all the smiling faces watching he and Cas with barely contained glee. “That I’m in love with you,” he says again.

“You’re-” Castiel’s eyes grow wide, and he’s staring at Dean’s chest, at the tops of the flowers.

“In love with you,” Dean holds up the sunflowers in his hands. “So, I got you these flowers – a little birdie told me they’re your favorite – one to represent each year of our friendship.”

Castiel’s clutching his chest now, and Dean doesn’t allow himself to stop and analyze what that means because if he does this whole thing will go belly up faster than he can blink.

“And then about 100 more to symbolize all the years I want to keep spending with you in the future.” He winks at Castiel. “Count them if you want. It’s a lotta years.”

“I can see that,” Castiel nods, parsing the room again in amazement.

“Uh, there’s one more thing.” He waits for the tell-tale sound that will indicate the loud speaker has been turned on, and grins at Cas knowingly when it sounds in Castiel’s room and throughout the halls of Benjamin Edlund high.

“Students and staff, may I have your attention? This is a very important announcement.” It’s Jack, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “It has come to our attention that Mr. W does not have a date for prom next week. It has also come to our attention that he’d like Mr. Novak to be the one who accompanies him to said occasion.”

Castiel’s chuckling, shaking his head as he locks his gaze with Dean. “Will you go to prom with me, Mr. Novak?”

It’s as if the whole building sucks in a collected breath, holding it, waiting for Castiel to respond. Luckily it doesn’t take long. “Yes,” Castiel breathes, grabbing the lapels of Dean’s shirt and dragging him in. “Yes, yes, yes.” It takes Dean by surprise when Castiel drags him in to press their lips together, but the cheers building around them settles all his qualms, and he kisses Cas back.

“It has come to my attention that Mr. W now has a date for prom,” Jack announces. “Mr. Novak said yes.”

Seconds after they part, Dean pulls Cas in again, his hands on either side of Cas’s face, the thumb on his right hand stroking along Cas’s cheekbone. “Yes,” Castiel whispers, curling a hand around Dean’s wrist. Dean smiles and kisses him again.

The sound of the loud speaker crackles around them and then another voice fills the room. “I’m principal Jody Mills, and I approve this message.”

:::

The kids are bumping and grinding to some Beyonce song and it’s not Dean’s night, not his prom, but he’s frowning in disapproval anyway.

“This is why I never went to these things when I was in highschool.” The words come grumbled out of the corner of his mouth. “They play shit- they play _crap_ music every time.”

Castiel’s smile is soft, but calming. “Life can’t be all Led Zeppelin all the time, Dean.”

“Why not?”

“Because - and this may come as a shock to you - but there are more people in this world than just you.” Castiel hooks a finger through the belt loop on Dean’s slacks and tugs him in. Their kiss is brief, chaste and it has Dean’s heart thumping over time in his chest.

“Says who,” Dean wonders around a smile.

Thankfully the Beyonce song fades out and another song flows in in its place. Kevin Tran’s voice sounds over the mic.

“This one’s for you, Mr. W.”

As “Thank You” starts playing Dean cocks an eyebrow at Cas, allowing himself to be pulled out onto the dance floor. “Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with this?”

“Because I did. I believe it’s my turn to let you know that I, too, am in love with you; and I couldn’t think of a better way to let you know than by asking you to dance our first official dance as a couple to our song.”

“Our song, huh?”

Castiel winks at Dean. “You know why.”

“You just want me to strip for you again,” Dean mutters conspiratorially. His cheeks are a soft rosy color, Cas’s too, and Dean may have known the guy for three years, but the butterflies are still there, still reminding him how he feels about Castiel every single day.

Drawing Dean in with a hand low on his back, Castiel settles them into Closed Position. “I do, yes.” His body goes still then, waiting for Dean to follow his lead, and Dean rolls his eyes before laying a hand on Cas’s shoulder.

“Guess I haven’t earned lead yet, huh?”

“No,” Castiel agrees, moving them around the dance floor. “But you have our whole future to do so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt High School AU given by @deancaswc  
> lemonsorbae vs. @envydean vs @levicastho


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